Devil's Advocate
by Katzedecimal
Summary: Something's fishy in the system and Vax the Virus Killer is sent to check it out. Mouse, Turbo and original characters


Devil's Advocate

A "ReBoot" fanfic by Katzedecimal

Bob, Turbo, Mouse and ReBoot copyright 1994 - present, Mainframe Entertainment All other characters copyright 1998 - present, Ennien Ashbrook. Dale is a gift for my buddy Donna.

_**PWING**_

The author of the vidwindow peered into the dim environment it showed. "You awake?" he asked hesitantly.

"Mrrrph," came a faint reply from the bundle of sheets. The pile huddled in on itself.

"I got a job for you, son. Wakey-wakey."

The pile moved again, looking like it sheltered the net's largest null. "F'q 'ff," it muttered.

"Is that any way to talk to your boss?" Turbo grinned. Some things just don't change.

The pile shifted and a head poked out from beneath the pillow. Warm brown eyes glared at the vidwindow from a blue face, both nearly obscured by the mane of chrome coloured hair. "Wh't th' W'B d'y'w'nt??" the face grunted.

Turbo had to laugh, "I got a job for you, Vax. Infector Virus, taken over a third of its system. Logi says its socked in good."

Vax was not mollified, "You woke me up for that? Logi's an idiot, he wouldn't know a threat if it walked up and bit him on the ascii."

This really made Turbo laugh, "I know, son, I know. Still, a third of a system is a lot. Check it out, will you? Logi says the hostilities warrent it and I'd just feel better knowing we'd covered our own bitmaps."

"So send another Guardian."

"I'm sending you."

"Oh fer..."

"Vax, I want you to check out this Kilowatt virus. Now quit arguing and get over to HQ so I can give you the details."

The Guardians. Beat-cops, file checkers, keepers of the peace. Their purpose: To mend and defend. They kept systems orderly, mended tears, acted as go-betweens for and kept Viruses in check. They had keytools and gold icons. Turbo had been their Prime for twenty-two hours.

It took a lot of study to become a Guardian. The first term alone, at the Academy, usually piled on enough homework to break all but the most persevering of sprites. After that, the work got harder. Professors at the Academy taught on a rotating basis: They had to be fresh from the field, to bring the latest knowledge and practices into the classroom. One of the Academy's best Games instructors had just been assigned to a new system. He'd be leaving at the end of the second. His older brother sat on the other side of Turbo's desk.

Turbo shoved the coffee mug and ashtray across to him. If Vax hadn't had his morning coffee and cigarette, he was surly and uncooperative. Not that he couldn't be anyways, Turbo mused. For all that the brothers looked similar, they couldn't be more different in personality. Whereas Bob was cheerful, friendly and eager to lend a hand, Vax was... random. The Guardians kept Viruses in check, using their wits to trick them or defeat minor battles. Some Viruses were too violent, some too powerful. When a Virus became more than a Guardian could handle, they put in a request for a Virus Killer.

Most people thought that the Virus Killers were a type of Guardian, but that wasn't precisely true. Virus Killers attended the same Academy but their course load was different, more specialized. Guardian training touched on the different Virus races and their general characteristics; Virus Killers learned them intimately. Vax knew them the most intimately of all. Vax lived among Viruses, circulated in their societies. Some of Vax's best friends were Viruses.

Turbo had often wondered how such a person came to be a VK, much less one of the best. He'd been chosen by one of the best keytools as well. In a way, that relationship was poetic: Cobol was as cantankerous as Vax. "So tell me about this Virus," Vax said after draining the last of the coffee.

Turbo nodded. "Its an Infector, taken over a third of the system. The system itself is old and rather small-town, with only limited net access."

"Explains Logi's presence," Vax injected.

Turbo ignored him, "Hostilities are frequent and resulting in high loss of data, both sprites and binomes." Vax opened his mouth to speak and Turbo cut him off, "I want you to check it out and tell me if the situation can be handled by another Guardian. If the Virus is truly dangerous... well, saves having to call you out again, doesn't it?" Vax sat back, one eyebrow raised skeptically. Turbo took out a notepad and opened a file, then passed it across the desk, "Take a look at the reports for yourself. See if you don't get the same feeling I do."

Vax took his time reading them. He lit a second cigarette and smoked it in thoughtful silence, his eyes never leaving the text. "I see," he said finally, "Very well. I'll leave straight away. Do I get time for breakfast?"

Turbo looked up at the ceiling before replying, "Son, for the length of time it'll take you to download into the system, you might as well pack a lunch."

Vax leaned against his idling cycle, jiggling his leg in impatience. He pitched his extinct cigarette and ground the butt beneath his heel; between Mariah and work, he was set up to start chain smoking. Maybe that was why Turbo had sent him out, to get his mind off Mariah. Vax had never been very good at keeping girlfriends and Mariah was something of a record for him... which was why it still hurt.

He looked up: The line had started to move. Vax rolled his eyes, put his hands on the handlebars and walked the bike forward. Thirty paces later, the line stopped again and Vax resumed his place leaning against the bike. He examined his fingernails carefully, but pretty soon the jiggling resumed. He sighed heavily; stuck behind a mail truck while an elderly daemon checked every passport with a meticulousness that bordered on paranoid. He thought about the lunch he had packed.

Finally, it was his turn. He handed his port authority through the small security window and waited while the matron scrutinized it as though she expected it to move. "Name?" she demanded.

"Vax. Says so on the passport."

"Process ID number?"

"867-5309"

"Format?"

"Virus Killer."

That stopped her. She stared at him over the rims of her glasses. "You're here about the Virus?" she asked timrously.

Vax rolled his eyes, "Nah, I'm here on holidays, thought I'd take in a bit of backwater life." Sarcasm rose from his voice like steam off a pile of winter dung.

The old Zero stared at his gold icon. That was familiar, she thought. "You a Guardian then? To mend and defend?"

"No. Much more specialized. They do all sorts of odd jobs. We do one odd job."

"And that is?"

Vax tried out his most unnervingly toothy grin and turned it on the daemon, "To hunt down and destroy." A nanosecond later he was back on his bike and roaring down into the system.

As systems went, it was small and uninteresting. The infected third was easily identified, mainly because its inhabitants were building a wall around it. Patrol vehicles swung around the perimeter, rising to meet a squadron from the free side of the system. Shots were fired and a battle ensued. Vax watched it dispassionately, noting who started firing first.

He looked up at a sound behind him. A figure in a blue uniform skimmed down on a zipboard. "Oh... its you," he said, his face falling.

"Afternoon, Logi. S'a pleasure to see you, too." The sarcasm had returned to Vax's voice.

"I was hoping they'd send someone else."

"Hey, when you care enough to send the very best..." Light glinted off Vax's teeth.

"They're at it again," Logi said, gesturing towards the warring factions, "Its going to be another slaughter. Tetris is getting desperate."

Vax's eyebrow jumped half way up his forehead. "Tetris?" he asked derisively, "What kind of a name is 'Tetris?'"

Logi threw him a superior look. "Tetris Cohen, the of this system. He's been fighting Kilowatt for hours now."

"How many hours?"

"As long as anyone can remember!"

"Uh huh. And what's this Kilowatt do?"

Logi stared at him, incredulous. "What do you mean 'what does he do'?? He's a Virus! He infects people, terrorizes them! He's taken over a third of the system!" Logi flung his arm wide, indicating the area before them.

"When did he last acquire territory?"

"Wha..?"

"How long ago? Nanos? Seconds? Hours? _Days?"_

"Er, well..."

"When was his last hostile takeover?"

"Um..."

Vax rolled his eyes and threw up his hands, "Logi... What has he done_ recently?"_

"That!" Logi pointed to where the battle had ended. The Viral forces had driven off most of the free system vehicles after spanking them thoroughly.

Vax watched them limp away. The Viral vehicles resumed patrolling the perimeter of their territory. After a few nanoseconds, construction on the wall resumed. "Maybe you'd better take me to this Vax said thoughtfully.

Tetris Cohen turned out to be only slightly older than Vax. He was decidedly beefier, however, and his orange hair clashed with his turquoise skin. He wore leather and there was enough metal to his armour to build a car. He wore his hair in three thin braids. He wore his mustache and beard in three thin braids as well. _Fruitcake,_ Vax thought, _And that's the silliest looking tin hat I've ever seen._

"So you're this Virus Killer our Guardian sent for," Cohen boomed out, puffing out his chest. This made his furs bristle, giving him a sort of tin-plated mold effect. "What are you looking at?"

Vax hadn't moved from his contemplative, chin-in-hand position. "I'm sorry, I was just wondering," he waved, indicating Cohen's mustaches, "Do you tie little bows on the ends, for special occasions?"

Silence dropped. Cohen drew himself up even further and his scowl darkened. "I was against calling in ...outside agents," he said icily, "We are more than equal to the task of routing one Virus!"

"Which is why you've got all those boot prints on your bitmap," Vax finished succintly. "Look, Puffy..."

They were interrupted by a vidwindow popping open beside Cohen. Cohen directed another glare at Vax, then turned to address the soldier shown, "Yes?"

"Sir! The Virals have released the prisoners, together with the usual demands."

"I see." Cohen's eyes narrowed, "Very well. Tell them we will agree. That will give us time to plan our little surprise."

"Yes, sir."

"Send a medical team to treat the prisoners, make sure they aren't carrying some sort of dormant time-bomb infection."

"Yes, sir." The vidwindow _pwinged _closed.

Cohen turned around, "Now, Virus Killer, come see what... Where'd he go?"

Vax could fade into the background when he chose to; sometimes he employed a cloak generated by his keytool, sometimes he simply made himself less noticeable. The medical ward was busy enough that he could stand in a niche and be overlooked. He watched the medical binomes scurrying past, tending to the released prisoners.  
They babbled their stories in hysterical voices. They were shaken but, Vax noted, they were unhurt. They were also uninfected. They had been given the Virals' demands to take back to their Principle Office, and had been threatened if they didn't comply. Vax noted that they had been threatened with Great Bodily Harm - not deletion, and not infection.

He faded further into the shadows as Cohen swept into the ward. He listened carefully as the soldiers babbled to their watching the righteous rage on Cohen's face. Vax fancied that Cohen's mustaches were practically standing on end and vibrating. He waited until the big sprite had gone, then snuck back out of the ward. He went in search of his bike.

Outside, Vax lit a cigarette and took a thoughtful drag. "You get all that, Cobol?" he asked. The keytool chirped a response. Vax pulled out a padd and reviewed Logi's reports to Turbo. He kept glancing up at the infected sector. Viral construction crews were working at a harried pace. "I think we ought to check that place out, Cobol," Vax said, and swung his leg over his bike.

Hidden by a cloak, Vax had spent close to a microsecond watching the Viral inhabitants of the infected sector. Cobol chirped, indicating that it had enough information to create a skin. Vax clicked his icon, then minimized the cloak to cover Cobol only. The sprite who rode leisurely into the infected city was unchanged but for his pimento-olive eyes.

Cloaks were good for some surveillance but if you wanted to see how people really lived, you had to get in among them, Vax reflected. There were datasprites here, as well as binomes. Cloaked, he could see how they interacted with each other. Wearing a Viral skin, he could see how they interacted with him. What he saw interested him: But for their identical pimento-olive eyes, he could be walking down Main Street Free System Anywhere. There were males, females and juveniles; families walked together, couples held hands, friends laughed and joked their ways down the streets. People nodded and smiled to him as they passed. No one marched. Correction: The soldiers marched, Vax noted as a small platoon rounded the corner and crossed an intersection. The civilians stepped respectfully aside, but their faces showed no apprehension. Several small boys broke away from their parents to run up to the soldiers, who greeted them with smiles. They waved to the children as they continued on up the street, towards the construction. Vax checked his keytool, nodding when Cobol indicated it was still recording.

"Time for a pixale," Vax muttered to himself. He turned down another street, searching for a pub. It was late in the cycle; they should be just opening. Ah! Vax found a likely looking place and parked his bike. "'Afternoon," he greeted the bartender. He swung onto a stool and plunked down some chits, "Pixale and a basket of chili rellenos, if y'please."

"Coming up," the bartender said. He barked the chili order back into the tiny kitchen and grabbed a pint glass. "Y'get caught in that last shake-up?" the sprite asked, pushing the pint across.

Vax took it and sipped before replying. "Yeah. Another spanking, it looked like," he answered, wiping the foam off his lip.

"Donno why they keep trying. Our guys're better'n theirs anyday. Be nice when we get that wall up. I nearly lost my pub a few seconds ago."

"Ouch," Vax sympathized.

"Yep. Be in a sitch if I lost m'pub. My boy, y'know. Evenin' Andy," the barkeep nodded to a construction worker as he entered. Noting Vax's inquisitive eyebrow, he explained while he pulled a pixale for the newcomer, "Boy's in school, y'know. Studyin' t'be one of them software engineer types. University got hit a minute ago. Now he's tryin' t'learn t'walk again."

"Yeah, how's he doing with that, Mitch? Heard he was up on a walking machine?" The bartender passed Vax his chilis then turned to update the construction worker on his son's condition. Vax listened.

As the pub began to fill up, Vax chatted with the patrons at the bar. They were friendly, but everyone had stories similar to the bartender's. All of them were eager for the wall to be finished. Vax had built up quite a picture of their lives when he was tapped on the shoulder. He looked up; two Viral soldiers stared at him impassively. He smiled as he stood up, and flipped the bartender a tip.

Busted.

"What took you guys so long?" Vax grinned at his impassive escort.

The Viral palace - a Viral sector's equivalent to a Principle Office - was a low, formal-looking structure, not the ostentatious eddifice Vax was used to seeing. The ABC dove toward it. "We wished to ascertain what you were doing," the soldier on his left replied.

"S'cool. So did I. How soon 'til I meet the head honcho?"

"You are to be taken to him directly."

"Oh, well... shoulda let me get my bike. I coulda portalled there," Vax grinned and shrugged. The soldier stared at him. The ABC landed and Vax rubber-necked while being marched down the halls towards the command center. The decor was quiet, neither militarily stuffy nor decadently opulant. The double-doors that opened onto the command office revealed an atmosphere of quiet efficiency. Binomes and sprites were unhurried as they carried out their tasks. They glanced at him with restrained curiosity and apprehension.

One face watched him openly. That face was olive green and silver. The shovel-like chin rested on silver fingers, linked together into a hammock and supported on the elbows resting on a crafted wooden desk. A silver crest rose from the long olive head. It sported three tines, the two outer tines curving inward and longer than the straight middle tine. The eyes that watched Vax approach were red and green, like pimento olives. Like the eyes of every other dataform in this sector.

"Kilowatt, I presume," Vax said as he approached the desk.

The Virus inclined his head, "You have the advantage of me, Mr. Virus Killer."

"Ah! Word gets around quickly. Your spy at the admittance daemon must have called you the moment I was through the checkpoint."

"How did you know she was a spy?"

"Got nervous when I told her my format. Dead giveaway."

"Indeed. I shall reprimand her for carelessness."

"Don't be too hard on her. VKs aren't all that common. Name's Vax."

"Indeed. And what are you doing in my sector, Mr. Vax?"

Vax winced and held up his hand, "Just 'Vax', please. I can't stand that formal stuff, 'specially if we're going to be friends." The Virus's eyebrow twitched upwards skeptically. "I'm here figurin' out how much time I'm wasting being here."

The Virus sat up, intrigued despite himself, "'Wasting?' I thought Virus Killers murdered any Virus they came across?"

Vax shook his head, "Nah, we weeded those guys out. 'Cept for Debian." The face he made made Kilowatt chuckle.

"Well if you're not here to delete me, what are you doing here? And why are you dressed like one of mine?"

Vax grinned and clicked his icon, shedding the skin and looking at the Virus with his own warm brown eyes, "'When in the Supercomputer'.. Its the best way to see how people really live. I've been in systems where the people are so cowed, they stare at the street all the time and never look up." Kilowatt's eyes narrowed, Vax noted with approval. "Your people.. That wall's being built to protect them, not to keep them in. Isn't it. How long ago did Cohen start the war?"

Kilowatt sat back and stroked his chin. "That's a very astute conclusion... Vax," he said slowly, "How did you come to it? The other Guardian is completely in support of Cohen."

"Logi's as much a bigot as Cohen is," Vax spat. The command office had fallen silent, all ears straining to hear the conversation. "Most of my job is spent determining how many cases are Viruses out of control and how many are sprite hysteria. Bigotry runs rampant."

"Indeed it does," Kilowatt said thoughtfully. "Did the Guardians send you?"

"Yep. The reports they were getting at the head office weren't jiving right, so they sent in their most impersonal agent -- me."

"Really. And what makes you so impersonal, Mr. Virus Killer?"

Vax grinned, "My best friend is a Virus. So's my foster mother. It kinda gives me an incentive to ask questions first."

"I see," Kilowatt said. He contemplated the sprite, then shrugged, "Very well. You are welcome to look around my sector and ask your questions. My people will of course keep a discreet eye on you. My civilians might get very nervous, so I would appreciate if you would wear that little disguise and keep your icon hidden when you circulate among them. The military are not so sensitive."

If he expected Vax to bridle at the news that he would be watched, he was disappointed. Vax only nodded, "Logged and noted. I take I'm free to leave?"

"You may go. Return him to his vehicle," the Virus told one of his nearby aides.

"One more thing... How long has Tetris Cohen been of this system?"

"About thirty hours or so."

"And how long has Puffy?"

Kilowatt's jaw dropped in astonishment.

"I'm telling you, 'Bo, its a sleeping dragon." Vax propped his feet up on Turbo's desk while he lit a cigarette. Turbo did not protest; Vax was like that when he knew he was right.

"So you're positive on that," Turbo asked, making a note on his padd.

"The territory became self-sustaining over thirty hours ago. The Virus himself is old, much older than Infectors usually get; they don't usually live that long. He's non-hostile."

"How do you figure that?"

Vax sat up and counted off on his fingers, "One, the free-sprite prisoners were released without any threat of infection. Two, his civilians and his staff are completely at ease with him. They don't fear him at all; most of his senior aides actually kid around with him." He smirked at Turbo's impressed expression and dropped the third bomb, "And three, he didn't once try to wheedle me. Have you ever heard of an Infector who didn't try to manipulate you? That's practically shaking hands, to them!"

Turbo blinked. "Son, are you saying he didn't try to get you on his side?"

"No, I'm saying he didn't try to _manipulate_ me onto his side. He tried to get me on his side alright, by giving me free run of his sector."

"And?"

"It worked."

Turbo sat back with an explosive sigh, "Oh for... Now look, son..."

"Turbo! Gimme a break! He could have wheedled me, he wanted to, _he didn't_. You know what Infectors are like: They usually run you in as soon as they find you in their sector. They don't usually let you chat up their people for three or four milliseconds, first. There's something wrong in that system, but I don't think its the Virus."

Turbo nodded slowly. "So my impression of Logi's reports was right: The free sprites are responsible for the hostilities."

"Looked that way to me."

"And the Virus is not aggressive."

"Definate no-kill situation."

"Alright then. I'll assign another Guardian to the system."

"Problem," Vax lifted his index finger in a halting gesture, "There _is_ something wrong with that system; whomever you choose, make sure they can deal with it."

"You said that before. What's the problem?"

"Logi says this 'Tetris Cohen' has been fighting Kilowatt for as long as anyone can remember. Kilowatt says Tetris Cohen has been for more than thirty hours."

"So?"

"So how come Puffy doesn't look any older than me?"

Turbo's eyes felt weary. He'd been reviewing Logi's reports again and again. Finally he shook his head, "My guess is Logi hasn't been there long enough to know. There's nothing in his reports to substantiate your suspicions."

"So? Doesn't mean I'm wrong."

"True," Turbo winced. He cast another skeptical look at Vax, "What do you think then? Another Virus? It'd fit in with the M.O."

Vax took a long pull off his coffee and frowned, "I'm not sure. If Puffy _is_ Cohen, then he's had a lot of face lifts, coz he sure doesn't look old enough to have battled a Virus for thirty hours. He doesn't look thirty hours old himself! When I realized that, I had Cobol run a scan on him, but it came up empty. If Puffy is a Virus - and I agree with you about the agenda - then he's a new type that isn't registered with the keytools."

Turbo winced again. "And if he's not a Virus?" he asked.

"Then he's an imposter. Maybe some upstart who didn't think the real Cohen was making enough headway. S'why I'm wondering whether Cohen was normally in the public eye, coz I'm betting he wasn't."

"And only made appearances comparitively recently," Turbo finished. He frowned. The whole idea sounded paranoid, yet at the same time it made a lot of sense. It explained a lot of the little weirdnesses of that system. There was one problem. "Nobody's going to believe it," he told Vax.

"I know. S'why you gotta find the proof."

"I was afraid you'd say that," Turbo rubbed his forehead. "Why me, son? Burden of proof is usually on the accuser."

"Did I say you? Did I mention you personally? Send in an agent. I'd do it gladly, but they're watching me. They aren't gonna let me anywhere near the archives."

An idea dawned on Turbo and he leaned forward, "Try."

"Hah?"

"Try to access the archives. Tell 'em you want to see the history of the hostilities. Then tell me if they really do refuse you."

"What's the matter, you don't trust me?"

"Its called covering your ascii, son. I do have to answer to the board."

"Fair enough," Vax replied and got up.

The request plainly took the Archive clerk by surprise. "You want to what?" he quavered.

Vax patiently repeated his request, "I want access to the Archives. I want to review the history of the hostilities and of the system."

"Er... I'll have to check for permissions..." Vax stared up at the ceiling, waiting. Beside him, Logi cleaned his fingernails. Finally the clerk returned, "If you tell me what files you're looking for, I can find them and release them to you."

Vax's eyes narrowed slightly; he'd been expecting something like that, and had his response ready. "How would I know what files they are if I don't already know the Archive? I'd rather browse the Archive myself, thanks. That way I can follow threads; its surprising sometimes, where a thread can lead." He watched the clerk swallow and skitter away again.

In due course, he returned. "Er, no," he said nervously.

Logi's head snapped up. "No?" he repeated, puzzled.

Vax's eyebrow rose, "No?"

"Er.. we can release the files..."

"Which we don't know which ones we want."

"But, er..."

"You won't let us into the Archives."

"Er, right."

"Why not?" Logi asked, still baffled.

"Errrr..." The clerk wilted under the combined stares of Guardian and Virus Killer. "Just... Tetris' orders," he said finally.

"I don't get it," Logi said as they walked out, "Why won't he let us read the Archives? That's a perfectly reasonable request."

"You ever asked to read the Archives?"

"Well, yes, but..."

"And he won't let you in, either?"

"No, but..."

"Logi, you haven't got the brains of a null. Now if you'll excuse me..."

"Awwwwwwwww noooooooo..." Vax groaned, "**You're** the special agent Turbo sent?"

The figure in front of him winked and stepped through the ship's door, "Sure am, sugar. Good to see you again, Vax. Haven't seen you since that dust-up with the Destroyer after Mariah walked out."

"Yeah, yeah, don't remind me -- and I mean that. What did Turbo tell you?"

"That you were needing someone to sweet-talk a out of his Archives. But he gave that a little thought and figured sweet-talkin' wasn't going to cut the mustard, if y'know what I mean."

"He's having you hack them."

"That's right, sugar."

"Suits me fine," Vax shrugged.

Mouse smirked and sat down, then pulled out her laptop and began typing. "This could take a while, sugar," she said without looking up, "Whoever locked this did a good job."

"Makes you wonder why, don't it."

"Yup."

Vax pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Taking a deep drag, he watched Mouse's fingers clatter switfly over the keys. "I'm in," she said, eight microseconds later.

Vax looked up from his lunch. "Patch me in," he said, taking out his own laptop, "And lets see what we can find."

"What're we looking for?"

"Tetris Cohen, the system Big discrepancy concerning him."

"Which is?"

Vax took another drag off his cigarette - his third, since Mouse arrived. Oy. "He's been for as long as anyone can remember and he's been fighting the Virus for thirty-odd hours."

"What's the discrepancy?"

"Buddy wearing the name doesn't look any older than I am."

Mouse frowned, looking up at him. "He's a Sprite? Not a binome or a numeral?"

"S'right. Modern Sprite, same as you and me. See the problem here?" Mouse nodded and he continued, "So I'm betting that Puffball here is a recent addition to the P.O. landscape."

Mouse nodded thoughtfully, then cracked a grin, "'Puffball?"

"You have to see him, he's a total fruitcake."

"I'll take your word for it," she chuckled. Her fingers clattered over the keys as she searched tree through tree.

"What do you make of him?"

The Sprite looked up, surprised by the question. Kilowatt sat with his legs crossed and fingers tented. The fact that he would ask such a question told the spy much. "You have of course been watching him since he first arrived in the system," Kilowatt continued, "It disturbs me to realize that he is very likely aware of it. That I cannot say for sure disturbs me more: It tells me either my spies are not as effective as I'd like, or that he is much more efficient than the Guardians I have previously encountered."

The spy blinked slowly before answering, "I don't know about that, sir. I haven't met any other Guardians besides Logi." The Virus nodded and gestured for the Sprite to continue. "Sir, he was observed with the other Guardian, trying to access the archives. Cohen denied him permission."

"I see. Now why do you suppose he wants into the archives?"

"I don't know, sir."

"I have a suspicion. I have long suspected Tetris Cohen of being an imposter. This Virus Killer shares that suspicion. It is intriguing that he came to this conclusion so quickly after his arrival."

"Yes sir."

"But you do not answer my question: What do you make of him?"

The Sprite thought a bit. "He does seem very impartial," he admitted slowly, "He seems more interested in seeing the whole picture for himself. He doesn't seem to mind doing the work to get there, even if it means spying. Or... or cracking."

"Cracking?"

"Yes sir. We postulate he may try to crack the archive database."

Kilowatt nodded; that was exactly what he had been thinking. He leaned forward, "Do you think he's on the level?"

The Sprite blinked again, totally shocked. So that was it: Kilowatt was vacillating. He wished to trust this Virus Killer's intentions, but of course such trust was against his nature. "I.. would be cautious," the Sprite replied nervously, "But he does seem to have been straight with us, so far."

Kilowatt leaned back, looking thoughtful. "Very well. Then we will be straight with him."

Turbo shut down the report he was looking at and rubbed his eyes. He got up and went to get a cup of coffee, then returned to his desk and nearly jumped out of his skin. "AH! Vax! Son, didn't you ever learn to knock??"

Vax was affronted, "You weren't in your office and your door was open! Sheesh, 'Bo, who whizzed in your Alpha-Bytes this morning?"

Turbo shook his head, embarrassed. "Sorry, son. I got my head all turned around with this Phoebus system nightmare, that's all."

"That bad, huh?"

Turbo just shook his head. His expression said it all. "Never mind that. What about your system, you got any good news for me?" he asked, changing the subject.

Vax tossed a padd onto the desk, "Yes and no. Mouse and I hit paydirt. The story's all there."

"Do I have to read it?" Turbo asked, looking aggrieved.

Vax just grinned, "You'll want to. Yeah, it looks like I was right."

Turbo sighed, "Alright. Why don't you take yourself out to dinner or something. This'll take me a while to read."

"You mean you don't want my clarifications and commentary?" Vax grinned.

"Get out of my face, son."

Six microseconds later, Turbo was still reading. This topped his expectations by a good bit; the reports were a combination of data copied out of the system's archives, Vax's observations, and files from the Viral sector - that was a surprise. Put together, they told an interesting story.

Thirty hours ago, the Virus Kilowatt had entered the system and established a modest territory, then he had settled down to administer it. It grew slowly over the hours, almost imperceptibly. During that time there were some skirmishes, then a cold war had prevailed and the system had lived in uneasy truce with the Viral sector. Then, about ten hours ago, it had changed. Cohen, previously a recluse as Vax had suspected, entered his office with a new outlook and a new word. He completely remade the system functions, completely changed the way the system ran. It had excelled, or so it had seemed. Then, with the system running better than ever, he had turned his attention to the Virus. The Viral sector was growing again. Cohen's plans had had some serious flaws: Despite the impressive efficiency on the system's surface, Cohen's remodelling had created instabilities. Micromanagement, haphazard file allocation, fragmented task scheduling and power-point system control had worn the citizens down. The unhappy people had turned to Kilowatt for care and the Virus's influence had increased. Cohen had grown apprehensive, then hostile. Finally, he had declared an all-out war.

Turbo leafed back through the archive reports that Mouse had copied out of the system. Previous to this, Cohen had been a good, if uninspired, His programs weren't breathtaking and they weren't the most efficient, but neither were they the worst. Overnight, it seemed, he had gotten visions of grandeur and the system was crumbling under the weight of his dreams. The Principle Office was overstaffed while the lower levels were overstretched. Turbo shook his head.

"Had a chance to look at it yet?"

Turbo nodded and gestured for Vax to sit down. The black leather boots thunked up onto his desk. Turbo winced and sighed, "I hate it when you're right. It creates headaches I don't need."

"Don't blame me, you picked me for this."

"I know, I know. I keep looking at the Virus's version here and thinking 'What's wrong with this vidcap?"

"You mean the way you look at it and _don't_ think 'That isn't what happened?"

"Yeah," Turbo nodded and looked at the Viral reports again, "He enters the system and goes to the lower levels. He finds the weak and dissatisfied people, the ones who like others to think for them, and he offers them just that. Presto, he's got Virals. He gets neighborhoods that way - Presto, he's got territory."

"Must be a politician," Vax said automatically.

Turbo shot him a Look then grinned, "Well he's certainly a change from the usual energy-and-thunder Infector. Most Infectors manipulate but this... I can't even call this manipulating. More like coaxing."

"'You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours' sort of deal. And his people are happy. You know Virals, they won't talk about their takeover or infection. They're too afraid. These ones talk about it openly. Ask 'em, 'How'd you come to be infected?' and they'll tell you."

"Then they tell two friends, and they tell two friends, and the Virus's territory expands because the people can't take the changes the is making," Turbo said thoughtfully.

"That's how it appears. Then that makes Puffy nervous and he fights back at what he sees as a hostile takeover when its really just people bailing out of his own mismanagement. They got nowhere else to go and Kilowatt's sector is stable."

Turbo nodded. That appeared to summarize the situation. Spam Logi's incompetance! A Guardian was supposed to spot these sorts of things. "Makes you wonder what happened to Cohen. If your 'Puffy' is an imposter, where's the real article? You were right about him being a shadow operator."

"You didn't read that bit, then?"

"Which bit?"

"Lemme see that for a nano." Vax reached across and took the padd, then scanned through its pages. "Here," he said, handing it back and tapping the appropriate paragraphs.

They described a young Sprite, an up-and-comer in system administration at the free system's university. He'd written many strident protests against Cohen's leadership and many proposals for improvement that bore a resemblance to the system's current practices. Then he'd just.. disappeared. Turbo sucked in his breath. _That_ was just a little _too_ coincidental. "Deleted, do you think?" he asked.

"Who, the kid or the don't know."

"Probably no way to find out. I'd say its a possibility though. This is very incriminating; undoubtedly this is what he didn't want you to find."

Vax nodded, "The whole works is, quite frankly. But yeah, you look at that and the first thing you think is 'Where'd he hide the body?'"

Turbo nodded and sighed, "Looks like we got another headache coming."

"So that's it. You're off the hook," Vax said.

Kilowatt looked surprised, "What do you mean? Just like that?"

Vax took a smug drag off his cigarette, "Yup. We uncovered the real problem and Turbo's going to deal with it. A team of_ competant_ Guardians will be sent in to keep the peace and Mouse here will be helping a team of sys-admin specialists with the recovery operation. Your sector will be undisturbed, since its pretty much what's keeping this place from crashing anyways."

The Virus sat in dumbfounded silence, broken only by his grin at Vax's derisive opinion of Logi. "I trust we can count on your cooperation, sugar?" Mouse asked with a wink.

Kilowatt nodded, "Yes, yes, of course. It is in my interest as well, to see the system restored." He sat back, still surprised by the revelations. "My word," he said at last, "I had no idea that a Sprite could behave in so... Viral a fashion!"

Vax and Mouse both grinned. "That's something we've both learned, sugar," Mouse said, waving a hand at Vax, "Viruses aren't the only programs who can have hidden agendas or stage hostile takeovers and Vax, what are you on??"

Vax, who'd been pointing at her and mouthing "mercenary" and "credits", spread his hands boyishly. "Nothing," he said innocently. Kilowatt laughed. "Anyways, she's right," Vax continued, "For a while, I wondered if Puffy was another Virus, but it turns out he's just a political extremist on a power trip who didn't have enough support to stage a coup like other political extremists."

"Indeed. I wonder what happened to the real Tetris Cohen? I don't suppose we'll ever know."

"Deleted, most likely, though Turbo did come up with a wild-shot. With the mass emigration to your system, there's a chance he might have hidden here, under an assumed name."

Kilowatt shook his head, "Possible, but surely unlikely."

Mouse shrugged, "If he did manage it somehow, maybe he'll resurface once he sees that 'Puffy' has been taken into custody. If his file is closed... well, that'll avenge him."

"And that's all out of my hands," Vax said, stretching, "My job here is finished. Now I go home and vegetate until the next call."

Kilowatt stood up and shook his hand, "Vax, I cannot thank you enough. I hope you will visit? You will certainly be welcomed."

"Yeah, I'll probably do that now and then," Vax agreed.

Mouse hugged him, "Good luck, sugar!"

"Me?! I'm only going home. You need it more than I do, you're the one staying behind to clean up," Vax grinned. He stubbed out his cigarette and waved, "Catch you later, you guys. Take care."

"You too, sugar. Don't worry about us, we'll be fine."

It was three seconds later and Vax was staring in shock at the vidwindow in front of him. "You're kidding, right?" he said at last.

"I wish I was, son. I wish I was."

"But... what happened??"

Turbo sighed and looked embarrassed, "Somehow your boy got wind of the arrest before it happened. He went 8-bits and launched a massive strike. Kilowatt sent his troops to assist ours, but 'Cohen' was using everything he'd got. We got him subdued and into custody, but the damage to the system is incredible."

"And Kilowatt's homeless."

"Him and a lot of other people, I'm afraid. With this, on top of the Phoebus system nightmare, I'm beginning to see why you took up smoking."

Vax grinned, ignoring the barb - smoking was the least of his stress-commited sins. An idea began to ping at the back of his mind. "What's the status with Phoebus now, anyways?"

Turbo sighed again. It was several nanoseconds before he answered, "The self-deletion rate has skyrocketted. At this rate, the system will crash not only from inability to manage, but from lack of people to manage it."

Vax nodded thoughtfully. Phoebus was an older system, one which had been under the control of one Virus after another for over an entire year. Generations of its citizens had lived their entire lives as Virals. To their knowledge, it had never not been Viral. Until that fateful day when the User had run an anti-Virus scan, freeing the Virals and killing the current Virus.

It was devastating. Never freed before, they couldn't cope with freedom. They had lost a significant part of their code and with it, all of their purpose and direction. They were alone in their minds for the first time; the comforting shadow of the Virus's directive was gone. Most were not registered; in the whole system, only a few of the oldest citizens had icons. If the system crashed, it would be unable to restart because of the resulting lack of inhabitants. Of the inhabitants it did have, many were closing their own files out of despair. The Guardians were doing their best to teach them how to survive, but they were against terrible odds and failing. The system was on the verge of crashing. Vax's idea popped into form. "Will the other system crash?" he asked first.

"No, it's stable enough, just badly damaged. We can rebuild it; we have the technology. It's Phoebus we can't rebuild."

"Give it to Kilowatt," Vax suggested.

Turbo stared at him as if he'd grown two more heads, "What?! Have you gone random??"

"Phoebus is going to crash otherwise, right? None of those people have icons, they'll all die. They're dying anyways. They can't survive without a Virus, so give 'em one we know can do the job."

"Give an entire system to a _Virus?!_ _**An entire system??"**_

"Yes."

"That goes against everything in the Guardian protocol!"

"So does watching an entire system die. Which is worse?" The silence stretched out between them. "The system's a dog that can't survive without its master. So give it a kinder master," Vax said.

"They're people, not dogs."

"You say they aren't going to be anything, before long."

Turbo looked away, "I'll have to table it before the board."

"An entire system?"

"That's right."

Kilowatt leaned back and stared at the blue skinned, blond haired Sprite sitting on the other side of the desk. The Prime Guardian returned his gaze steadily. What he had offered him was every Virus's dream.

It didn't have the impact he'd expected it to. It should have exhilarated him, thrilled him, filled him with a sense of triumph. As a young Infector, searching for his own territory, he would have gloried in the thought of an entire system to himself. Kilowatt was older now, wiser and more experienced. He held a third of a system now and it was a handful to manage. The administration, the personnel management, the sheer volume of people to be infected with his code... "Er... Can I think about it?"

Turbo's eyes opened wide. Think about it?? A Virus who wanted to _think about it??_ Then he stared as the Virus actually squirmed. "It'd be an enormous headache," he heard Kilowatt say, "And I'm not a young Virus anymore. And I have to think about my own people, my current people..."

Vax grinned from the other chair where he had been lazing in silence, "Already thought of that. Phoebus has lost a lot of people, Sprites and Binomes. Maybe some of your current people - the recent ones - will want to stay, but I bet a lot of your older infectees will want to immigrate to stay with you. Your current system won't miss them, but Phoebus could use the help."

"Maybe it'd help if you were to see the place," Turbo offered. Kilowatt didn't refuse.

There wasn't much to Phoebus. A single, large drive, in the middle of an energy sea, with a Principle Office in the middle - much like any system. It was dirty. Trash littered the unswept streets, buildings were unkept, windows unwiped and datatrains overloaded. The people walked with heads down, their faces staring blankly at their feet. Kilowatt turned his head, rubbernecking like a tourist as the car they were in flew towards the Principle Office building. Depression hung like a grey cloud over the city. Inside, the Principle Office showed the same level of despair. Binomes swabbed mops listlessly over the floors, tapped data into padds, or conducted repairs. They looked like they were forcing themselves to work. Even smiling seemed to take an effort of will. They were trying, he could see, but he could also see that the Prime Guardian was right. He was keenly aware of the eyes that followed him as he walked past.

They reached the command center and saw a small cluster of Sprites. Several Guardians and sys-admin specialists were gathered around another Sprite, a young woman. They looked up and watched them approach. Turbo beckoned to the young woman and, giving Kilowatt a shy glance, she joined them. "This is Letitia," Turbo said, introducing her, "She's been training to learn the job." His expression was carefully guarded, Kilowatt saw. The young woman's was a mixture of apprehension and hope. "Letitia, this is Kilowatt," Turbo continued.

"Pleased to meet you," Letitia said, and shook his hand with shaking fingers.

He patted them and did not let go, "Training to be the my word that's quite a task. You must be quite good at it." She blushed and chewed her lip, looking at the floor.

"What are the latest stats, Letitia?" Turbo asked.

She drew in a breath and visibly settled herself. "We've lost another fifteen people over the past cycle. More are in the intensive care units in the medical wards." Turbo winced. "Yesterday a document packet was downloaded. The workcrews dismantled it for processing..." she shook her head and paused, "But I don't think we did it right."

"Why do you say that? What do you think you did wrong?" Kilowatt asked. While Letitia explained, Turbo moved over to confer with his Guardians and the sys-admin task force. Letitia, they reported, had been doing her best, but this latest round of suicides had hit her hard. They listened in stunned silence as Turbo quietly explained his proposal. Now and then he glanced at Letitia, who was explaining her reports to the Virus.

"Well, I think you've been handling things very well," Kilowatt was telling her, "Nothing that can't be brought up with a little help. Quite an excellent performance at such a daunting task. And to manage a family as well?"

Letitia shook her head, "No sir. No family. I'm not co-processed or anything like that and my folks were nullified in a game several hours ago."

"I see. What a tragedy. Do game cubes drop often?"

"No sir, not often at all. Sir?" she lifted her chestnut eyes to him in appeal, "Are you coming to take the system, sir?"

Kilowatt looked around, aware of the nervous eyes watching him. "I have been asked to, yes. My own system has been damaged by war. Nothing we can't rebuild, but it is disturbing, myself and so many of my people without a home. The Prime Guardian asked me to have a look around. I must admit, I was not looking forward to the headache of rebuilding an entire system, but I see its been managed well enough that I don't think there should be a problem in that area. But my people...!"

"We can find homes for them, sir," one Binome said quickly, sparking a murmur of agreement. "With all the.. losses, a lot of places are empty," another added. "So are a lot of jobs," chimed a third.

Kilowatt smiled; that was exactly the reaction he had been hoping for. "Well then, I really don't see how I can refuse," he announced.

Letitia looked at the quicksilver fingers still holding her hand. He already had territory. He was concerned about his existing Virals. Their last Virus hadn't been like that. None of them had, as she understood it from the old people. The Guardians had asked him to come, bringing people and experience to help them restore the system? "Thank you, sir," she whispered.

Kilowatt looked at her. She was barely v2.5 by Sprite reckoning, with amber skin and copper-coloured hair and she looked like she held herself together with spit and electrical tape. No icon, he noticed. None of them had them; he'd been told that only a few of the oldest residents had icons. No matter: He could infect without them. "Now now," he murmured. He drew her against his chest and stroked her shiny copper hair, "Have you done this before?" She shook her head. Claimed as an infant, then. Viral all her life until she was cleaned. She was doing the best she could, but she was cracking under the combined strain. The kindest thing he could do was claim her. "Just a little pin-prick," he told her softly, "Then you may feel a little sick."

His claws pierced the skin of her arm and he closed his eyes. Infecting a Sprite took great concentration. Most Viruses couldn't do it at all. Sprites were coded with incredible complexity and Viral power was great. Kilowatt remembered the seconds of tutelage that he and his brother had received from their father. It was seconds before they understood the process, minutes before they could attempt it themselves, and hours before they would master it. He sifted carefully through her code, making only the most necessary adjustments. Her personality chip was examined; Letitia would revert to her chipper self, organized and industrious, with a tendancy towards romanticism. He left the chip untouched and moved on to her memory files. This was a delicate operation, as delicate as examining the personality: He sifted only enough to learn about the system and its previous Virus. This too had taken hours to master. Most Viruses could not control their power to this degree. They smashed through the personality chip and destroyed it, leaving the Viral practically a zombie. So too did memory searches often leave the memory corrupted or deleted entirely. Kilowatt took great pride in his ability to weild the sledgehammer of Infectious power with such finesse.

It was over in a surprisingly short time. Letitia had felt the presence of the Virus's mind enter her and submitted to its gentle reassurance. She felt him sift through her code and felt no fear. She grew nervous when she felt him touch her memories, but he left her privacy intact, viewing only things he had to know, things she could not describe adequately with words. She remembered the mental presence of the previous Virus; she was always there, like another person in the head, always watching. Kilowatt's presence was more like an afterthought, the ghost of a dream -- there, but not interfering unless he had to. She knew that as certainly as she knew her name. She knew that she would be cared for. She knew that it would be alright.

She opened her pimento-olive eyes and wept.

After that, the work began. The first thing Letitia had done was open a system-wide vidwindow and announce Kilowatt's arrival. The sight of her red-on-green eyes had had a mesmerizing effect on everyone who saw her. The Principle Office staff had crowded around him, but Letitia had waved them back: There were others who needed Kilowatt more. Then, without his having to ask, she had begun drawing up a schedule of infection, prioritizing in order of hopelessness, and consulting with him on pacing so that he would not be overworked.

There were a lot of Sprites, as well as Binomes and Numerals. Kilowatt and his brother had differed on the matter of Sprites as Virals. Sprites retained much more autonomy after infection, they were less obedient and more likely to escape or cause disruption; the only way to produce a truly obedient Viral Sprite was to smash them. His brother hadn't thought it worth the effort, preferring to infect Binomes. Kilowatt had thought it a challenge. He preferred to keep them loyal through keeping them happy - another point on which he and his brother had disagreed. Why should a Virus have to please his Virals? But Kilowatt thought of it only as a challenge, something to amuse himself with over the hours. Eventually he had learned how to produce a more obedient Sprite without breaking them, but he still kept them happy.

True to Vax's prediction, many of his current Virals wished to remain in their ruined system. As a gesture of good-will, Kilowatt had freed them, then bid them farewell. Still, close to half of his current population had chosen to go with him. His aides were now helping the Phoebus Principle Office staff, sorting out residences and organizing clean-ups. Many of his own people had lost their posessions; furnishings were re-allocated, clothing protocols re-distributed. The families of the people who had left these things behind donated them gladly: It meant no one else would follow.

"The suicide rate dropped overnight," Turbo read, "That young woman took her face to the entire system and dropped vidwindows into all of the medical wards. She put the suicide wards on top priority for infection. Then the new infectees took their faces out to their families. The relocation efforts are under way and we're already making progress on the other system. Both systems should be back running smoothly within half an hour."

Vax beamed. "Now that's something you don't see every cycle: A nice tidy solution to two problems. Delete two nulls with one game cube."

"It was a good idea," Turbo said slowly.

"Good! Well, if that's all, I'm gonna cruise," Vax said, and stood up.

"Vaximilian..."

Vax's face froze into an ugly scowl and he turned very slowly. Nothing got to him quicker than using his real name. "Turbo," he said icily, "Gimme one good reason why I shouldn't paste you for that."

"You've been suspended from active duty."

The colour drained out of Vax's face, "wh... What?!" He sank back into his chair, staring with saucer-eyes. "Suspended?! What for?! For how long?!"

Turbo did not look up from his desk, "The board didn't agree with your idea. They voted it out unanimously. I argued it but they were dead set against it, they said it was the most random idea they'd ever heard. Consensus was that... well, after Mariah left you and your attempts at self-closure by cop... They felt you were no longer fit to use a keytool. I argued that as well and finally got them to agree to try your idea, on the conditions that the Virus be carefully watched.. and you be suspended from duty until such time as the experiment was proven to work." He looked up, his eyes full of compassion, "I'm sorry, son. You went through such a rough time and I feel bad because I didn't spot it. You've done a fine job of pulling yourself back up and this -- " he let out an explosive sigh and ran his hands over his crewcut hair, "This job just proves that you're back online and sharp as ever. Suspending you is a mistake, but its what I had to do to get the board to give your idea the go-ahead."

Vax finally found his voice. "But only until Phoebus is stable again?" he asked.

"Yes. Once Kilowatt has proven himself, I can move for reinstatement. But, you won't be allowed to contact him, nor will Mouse. Can't have the pot being stuffed."

Vax nodded. There wasn't much else he could do. Without a word, Turbo held out his hand. Cobol protested vehemently at being removed from Vax's arm, then settled into an irritating keen. Turbo winced; Vax managed to grin -- if nothing else, he'd have the satisfaction of knowing that Cobol was going to make a nuisance of itself to the board. There was nothing else to say. Vax left.

_Half an hour later..._

_**PWING!**_

The author of the vidwindow peered into the dim environment it showed. "You awake?" he asked hesitantly.

"Mrrrph," came a faint reply from the bundle of sheets. The pile huddled in on itself.

"I got news for you, son. Wakey-wakey."

The pile moved again, looking like it sheltered the net's largest null. "F'q 'ff," it muttered.

"Is that any way to talk to your boss?" Turbo grinned. Some things _still _didn't change.

The pile shifted and a head poked out from beneath the pillow. Warm brown eyes glared at the vidwindow from a blue face, both nearly obscured by the mane of chrome coloured hair. "Wh't th' W'B d'y'w'nt??" the face grunted.

Turbo laughed, "I got a job for you, son. I want you to take a cranky keytool off my hands and make it quit bugging me."

The blankets snapped away from Vax's astonished face, "Cobol?? I've been reinstated??" Quickly he tapped his icon, restoring his clothing protocol, then jumped out of bed.

"You sure have, son. Phoebus is back online and running better than ever and the people there just love Kilowatt. Its a good thing he did succeed because they won't let him leave! I got Guardians there who're scared they're going to be mobbed if they so much as sneeze at him."

"Well that's great," Vax said, hurriedly working his hair into a ponytail. "How's the other system, did Mouse get.. Oh fer..!" Without warning the vidwindow shrank and started zipping around the room. "_Dale!"_ he bellowed. He swatted at the flitting point.

"Sorry, can't help it." The door opened to reveal a bishonen young man with honey-coloured skin, green hair and violet eyes. "Did I hear the word 'reinstated'?" Dale grinned.

"Hello again, Dale," Turbo said, from several parts of the room as Vax chased the vidwindow, "Still playing pranks, I see."

"Yup!"

"Loser," Vax grinned. He landed a lucky shot on the vidwindow and it sprang open to its normal size again, "You were saying, 'Bo?"

"Well, you were asking about the other system, I presume. Its recovered nicely. Mouse was a great help at finding the previous autoexec.batches. Our admin team modified them and the system's back to running stable."

"And Puffy?"

"Is spending a long, long time in filelock. So c'mon over and get your keytool, Vax, and let's get you back out where you belong." The vidwindow pwinged closed.

"Hot spam!" Dale cheered.

Vax grinned, "Yeah, c'mon, lets go get Cobol then get some coffee."

"Heck, let's go back to Mom's for breakfast!"

"Yeah!"

They raced around, Vax finding his cigarettes and jacket, Dale pulling on his gloves. They, like his practical jokes, were part of his disguise. "Sorry about the vidwindow. I couldn't resist. Format, donchaknow," he shrugged.

"Yeah, I know. I don't mind," Vax replied. He lit up a cigarette and took a drag, then gestured at the five-fingered gloves Dale was pulling onto his four-fingered hands, "Maybe one day you won't have to wear those. Or maybe your kids won't."

"Or my grand-kids," Dale agreed, "It'd be nice not to have to hide. I'm Benign; all I do is the vidwindow trick. But I'm still a Virus, so I gotta hide my hands with the gloves and hide my trick with practical jokes."

Vax nodded. He knew. He'd known Dale since they were v1.5. They were best friends, ever since Vax had rescued him from Vax's own street gang. His mother was a Benign Virus as well; she ran a restaurant in Vax's system and didn't ever talk about how she came to have Dale. She'd taken Vax in, given him a home off the streets and he'd repaid her by going off to Guardian Academy to learn how to protect them. And Viruses like them, who just wanted to live and let live. This time he'd saved not only the Virus, but an entire system.

Hot spam!


End file.
